Stay With Me Tonight
by hekate's blackest blood
Summary: Clint and Phil have feelings for each other, but aren't sure how to approach the subject. Luckily, Thor is there with some advice.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE: This story should be read after you read my dear friend Phoenix Flower Techtress' work, Say Something. It's the beginning of this series. Here, have a link: s/10207985/1/Say-Something Now, there is no excuse for you to be confused. :D After making some minor edits, these will also be uploaded on AO3, as a series. Keep an eye out for that in a few days, please. And, since Phoenix insists on disclaimers: I own several cats, and none of them include superheros or music. **

Phil was a simple man. He did his job, and he was excellent at it. Something he didn't plan on, however, was love. As an agent he didn't plan on ever needing love, but in the funny way that love has, it snuck up on him. It was even with the least expected person he could ever imagine.

_If I fall for you, I'll never recover. _

_ If I fall for you, I'll never be the same._

It started, well, the start isn't that important. He was assigned to be Clint Barton's handler. That in itself wasn't all that unexpected. He was one of the best agents, and so was Clint. The best deserves the best. It was unexpected at how easy it was to work with him. Previous reports had led him to believe that Clint was difficult at best. Those handlers obviously didn't know Barton like Phil did. He wasn't difficult, just different.

When Clint had free moments at S.H.I.E.L.D, he often spent them out on the range, not unusual for the best sniper there was, but when not filling targets with arrows, he spent his time being a sarcastic ass, sparing with Natasha, and doing whatever it was that he did in his various spots of height. That all added up to make Clint hard to find, and sometimes difficult to deal with. Or, that's what previous reports from the other handlers lead him to believe. However, Phil never had that problem. Clint was there when he needed to be, and Phil often found his jokes to be…refreshing.

Thoughts like that are probably what caused the love to bloom in the first place. And really, it was so unexpected that it wasn't until he had hours of uninterrupted time in the hospital that allowed Phil to reflect so deeply on the affection that had built over the years of knowing Hawkeye. Of course, knowing that you love someone is a whole lot different than actually telling someone you love them.

It's one thing to shoot an untested weapon at a god for brainwashing the man you love, and get stabbed through the chest for it, but it is a whole new ball game to look a guy that you've worked with for years in the eye and say that you loved him.

Besides, what if he didn't reciprocate that love? At least with work he could distract himself, but sitting in this hospital bed, he was a slave to any thoughts and fantasies his brain could come up with. To be fair though, Clint didn't actually seemed opposed to spending time with Phil, just the two of them. He visited often enough, had even apologized for being brainwashed, as if that was his fault. In fact, his recovery in the hospital had allowed them to grow closer, close enough to be labeled a friendship instead of a business relationship.

Now, just a few days from release, Phil was worried that it would all change. Clint obviously felt obligated to be there with him, regardless of the resulting friendship. Once he was proved fit to fight, would the relationship still continue? Not to mention, all the Avengers stopped by (Cap had even signed his cards, finally!), it wasn't as if Clint was the only one. Maybe it was a team obligation they had agreed on and where would that leave Phil, if this relationship he had with Hawkeye was only born from obligation?

Phil sighed and closed his eyes. For now, his heart and mind agreed that sleep would serve him better than mooning over sexy archers with a great personality and superhero status.

_I don't know where to stop, I'm just a little lost._

_I wanna feel like we're never gonna ever stop_

Clint stopped by Phil's room just in time to see that he had fallen asleep. So, instead of leaving, like a normal person, Clint chose to watch. Watching was something he was good at. He was excellent at it, even, and stupendous if it involved Phil Coulson. Was it creepy to be a pro at ogling your superior? Probably, but Clint had always ignored certain social rules, anyway.

If he was honest with himself, he wasn't even sure when this obsession with the older man had started, but he could assume it was probably before the guy had taken on Loki on his own, and proved to be a total badass. He already knew Phil was a badass, though. No one looks that nice in a suit, and commands that much respect automatically without having been in the field for some time. Continuing on the honesty track, he knew it went beyond thinking Phil was cool and attractive. Phil was a dork, he idolized the Captain almost as much as Tony loved him, and he had this dry sense of humor that never failed to take people by surprise. He was everything that Clint wanted, that he needed.

Dammit, Clint may have been as anti-romance as they came, but he wouldn't be adverse to Phil romancing him, at all. That scared him. He knew himself well enough that if he let Phil have his heart, he would never be able to give it to someone else, would never want to. He was even pretty sure that it was too late to try and find someone else, anyway. His ship was sunk, and it was sunk off the coast of Phil Coulson isle. Especially, if Thor's talk of soul mates was to be believed.

The big Asgardian had found Clint in his most secret nest that he used to keep a watchful eye over the rest of the team. It was in the vents, actually, right above the kitchen they all shared. His nest was where he liked to do most of his thinking, especially about Phil. It was in one of these "though comas," that Clint found himself the subject of Thor's advice. The blond man had startled him out of his thoughts by hitting the side of the vent until Clint came crawling out. "There you are, Eye of Hawk! I wanted to talk to you!" Thor, Clint decided, was more prone to yelling than talking, but he did have a way with words regardless. "Shoot," he told the Asgardian. Thor looked puzzled, "I don't wish to beat you at target practice, I wish to fix what ails you."

"I'm not sick…?"

"No, Eye of Hawk, I mean your soul. It cries for its mate." At this point, Clint was certain that all aliens were crazy, at least he Thor-type of Aliens were. Still, He found himself asking, "Mate? How do you figure?"

"You Midgardians must have no concept of this, first, the Man of Iron and The Captain, and now you and Phil, Son of Coul. Do you all have to nearly die before you realize that you were meant for each other? If that is the custom, it isn't a very good one."

While the big man talked, it was all Clint could do to keep neutral at the mention of Phil. Was he that easy to read, or was there more to this being a crazy Alien thing than he had first imagined? "Not sure I follow you, big guy."

"It's simple, every person is meant for someone. Both have one half of a spirit, and together, they form a whole. I believe you would call them soul mates."

Clint nodded slowly. "You're telling me that Ph-Coulson….is my…my…Mate-thing?"

"Yes, it is obvious in the way you act around each other, the way it was with our other team mates. There is no shame in it, it is a thing to be celebrated!"

Clint rubbed the back of his neck "Sorry Thor, but I don't think there is going to be much celebrating. Phil is my superior, and things don't work like that here…plus who is to say that he even likes me like that?" Thor seemed to consider that for a moment. He said, " The Captain is our leader, and he and the Man of Iron chose to be together, despite your strange custom of authority. There was much celebration as well. I heard their souls rejoicing for much of the night."

"Thor, I'm glad you felt the need to hear them, but please, don't….'share the love.' And that doesn't solve the problem of Phil's almost certain rejection of me."

Thor beamed at him, bright and happy he said, "I know one thing Eye of Hawk, almost certain is not completely certain." Clint nodded, thoughtful, before the big man clapped a hand on his shoulder "I wish you luck, my brother in arms, I'm sure you will find yourself fortunate." With that, the Asgardian walked off to do whatever it was that crazy aliens did in their free time, and Clint took a breath before heading off to the hospital.

_I'll think about you every single day, I know we're only half way there  
But you can take me all the way, you can take me all the way_

Phil awoke some time later, he wasn't really sure how long he had been asleep, but he was greeted by the most wonderful sight. Clint was there, next to his bed, looking thoughtful, and so beautiful. Phil cleared his throat. "Barton…? It's good to see you." Clint looked at him. In that look, Phil was certain he had decided on something. He wasn't sure of what it was, but it filled him with a sense of anticipation, like the next few moments were going to be the most important ones Phil would have since waking up.

"Sir…Phil? I think we should talk." Phil drew himself up, so he was leaned back against his pillows more comfortably. He couldn't deny the thrill he got from hearing his name slip past the archer's lips. It was a rare thing, and meant that Clint was speaking on a personal level not many people would ever see from conversing with him. "Go ahead, Clint." The archer took a breath before starting.

_I don't know what to do, I'm right in front of you_

_ Asking you to stay, you should stay, stay with me tonight, yeah_

"Phil, I'm not really sure what I'm doing here, really…so If I sound like an idiot, can we keep it between us?" The agent nodded his head, but didn't speak, afraid to interrupt whatever had given Clint the courage he obviously needed.

"You know that I'm not the kind of guy who knows a lot about love, and poetry and feelings and crap, right? Well, I mean, it's not crap, but to me it never came natural. I was pretty sure I was just a man and his right hand…but then…" He stopped and seemed unsure of what to say next, something the witty man never really had problems with before. "It's okay, Clint," Phil reassured. "Take your time." With another breath, Clint was speaking again.

"I was put under your care in S.H.I.E.L.D and I'm not sure when, or what mission, but things just became…things were…I…." He stopped one last time before rushing out: "Phil, I love you. Thor says we're soul mates, and if Steve and Tony can do it, why can't we? And don't reject me too hard please?"

The archer looked more vulnerable after saying all that than Phil could ever remember seeing him. As the seconds ticked by, he seemed to grow even more anxious, and it was a side Phil knew nobody would ever see, even Natasha never saw him with this many walls down. A full minute had passed before Phil realized he was just staring, unbelieving of the wonderful man in front of him. Clint sighed and stood up. "Sorry to bother you sir, it won't happen again." He got up from the chair he was sitting in, and was nearly completely out of the door before Phil found his voice. "Wait, Clint! I have to tell you something too." Clint spun around to face him, his face unguarded and full of hope.

"Somewhere between New Mexico and shooting a god, I fell in love with you too." Phil smiled. "Come here, Clint." Hawkeye walked over to the man in bed, and found himself being tugged gently down into the hospital bed. There, with his head on Phil's chest, listening to the beautiful and wonderful sounds of it beating, and Phil's arms around him, two words were shared between them. "Stay." Phil said, and Clint replied, "Always."

**END: So...? Tell me what you think, please. I'm also considering adding a sequel that involves some smut, but that's up to you guys. Keep an eye out for some Thorki stuff on Phoenix's end, and some Bruce Banner stuff on mine...Oh, and Natasha/ Pepper from me as well. If you have any suggestions or requests, I wouldn't mind reading them. **


	2. The View is Beautiful,Ours Alone Tonight

The View is Beautiful, and Ours Alone Tonight "Sooooo, when is it gonna happen?" the archer asked. He wished it could have been confident at least. The question came out in a nervous tone, accompanied by a blush that only seemed to come out around his agent. It wasn't his fault that Phil made it easy for Clint to be embarrassed! "When is what going to happen, Clint?" Phil asked in return. He seemed amused slightly, but otherwise gave no indication as to knowing what The Avenger was talking about. Clint was sure that he was being messed with. It surely must be obvious. They had been together for a while now, as Phil was recovering from getting stabbed. In fact, a few days after admitting they had feelings for each other, the other man had been released from his hospital stay weeks ago, but hadn't been fit to do much physical activity (or much of anything really, besides the required physical therapy) including the one thing Clint was most anxious about. That thing was sex. The thing he wanted, and was pretty sure Phil wanted too. He was also sure Phil wasn't as worried about it as he was. It's not that Clint was scared of it…Okay, it's not exactly scared…more like worried. His few experiences while he was in the circus had been little more than fumblings in the cover of dark, that had left him unsatisfied. He was unsure of his ability to perform, ironically enough. Clint spent nearly his entire life preforming for others, and now, when it comes to the man he wants most to impress, the archer is afraid he isn't up to par. A guy like Phil must have had other agents throwing themselves at him left and right. What if, and he hated to think it, he wasn't good enough? Not a thought that Clint really put together about himself, unless it somehow involved Phil. "The sex…Doctor gave you the all clear a couple of days ago, and I figured you'd want to get on with it," The blond man mumbled into Phil's neck, where he hid his face, and consequently his blush (It probably was felt by Phil anyway, Clint assumed he might as well have been sunburnt with how red he probably was). They had been snuggling together on the couch during the conversation, in their part of Stark Tower. Phil pulled back from him with a laugh, which made blush worse. Clint wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that he actually asked, or Phil's reaction. That must have shown in his face, because just as quick as the laugh had come, it was gone, leaving the amusement that was there before (Clint knew his agent was being unnecessarily dense!). "Oh, Clint, baby, no we don't have to do anything. We are going at your pace, okay? Nothing will happen until you're ready." Phil hugged him close again. "I mean, I want to, don't get me wrong, but I want you to want it, too." Clint snuggled into the wonderful arms of Phil again for a moment longer before pulling back. "I want it, too. Eventually. I just want it to be perfect. I want to be perfect for you." That got him another chuckle, and a kiss. "I thought you were perfect before you worked for me. It just proved how right I was once I got the chance to actually meet you. You're wonderful." Clint was pretty sure he was going to overdose on all the sweetness that came with Phil sometimes. Not that the archer really minded, it was nice, and left him with a tingly sensation in his stomach that he wasn't sure about. It was a thing he hadn't felt before Phil had come along. It must have something to do with butterflies taking over his insides, as the expression goes (close enough). Clint didn't voice these thoughts. Phil probably knew anyway, he always seemed to know what Clint was feeling. Instead, he sighed in contentment, and rested himself back in the older man's arms and let his head be stroked until he dropped off into sleep. A few more weeks pass, and neither one of the men bring up sex again, and if they had thoughts about it, they kept it to themselves. That was how Clint preferred it, besides; Phil would be busy back at shield headquarters going over all that he had missed while he was out of commission. Of course, this left Clint time to plan things. Somewhere between their talk and Phil being allowed into his office again, Clint had decided he was ready. He kept quiet though, and when they touched, Phil was sure to never push him too far. All they had done was make out, and rub against each other (fully clothed) before Phil had pulled himself off of Clint and decidedly had not touched him below the waist the rest of the night. That night was when he had decided to form a plan, had decided to use the plan to tell Phil he was ready. Phil pushed him back against the bed, his mouth against the archer's. It was sloppy, and mostly tongues meeting, and the bit of teeth on lips. When they weren't kissing, Phil was busy marking up Clint's neck, and Clint was moaning, and arching into the sensations, rubbing himself against the man above him. He made noises that would have made a whore blush. They were loud and beautiful, forming around Phil's name, making breathless gasps for air. When had he become so sensitive? It had to be because of Phil. Clint once again thought of Thor's mate-thing talk. He was now certain the Asgardian was on to something. Of course, those thoughts were quickly pushed out of his mind when Phil pushed back against Clint's upward thrust, causing them both to make a noise of pleasure as their erections meet, feeling amazing even through the layers of clothes. Of course, something about hearing himself moan must have snapped Phil out of it, as he pulled away to lay next to Clint rather than on top of him. "Sorry," the older man said breathless, "I just had to kiss you after today, been think about it all day at work, and got carried away. " Clint just whined at the loss of the man on top of him, causing Phil to stroke his face. Despite wanting it badly, Clint did not ask Phil to keep going. He knew as soon as he gave the word, Phil would have continued happily. That night, Phil had proved to him that he was wanted, and was enough for the older man. It was their first time really touching sexually, and it was all Phil, from start to the way he pulled back just for Clint when things were starting to get heated. So, Clint decided in return he would do something he didn't do for anybody but Phil. He would be romantic, and things would be perfect and end in mind blowing sex, hopefully. That was Clint's plan…..Or half of it. He still had no idea what to do to get from point A to point B. Clint was a smart man, usually, and he knew when to ask for help. Most of the time, he'd just ask Phil, obviously he couldn't do that now. That only really left him Natasha, and she was a woman. Women had an instinct for this sort of thing, right? Hopeful, he went off to the Russian woman's room. He found, after a brief conversation and much teasing, that despite being a woman, Natasha did not carry any instinct of being romantic. When he asked her, she smirked at him and said, "You know romance isn't really my thing, and if it was, I wouldn't tell you anything." "But 'Tashaaa! It has to be special, and you're the only woman I know besides Pepper, and she is scarier than you." With his whining, he earned a chuckle. Or maybe it was at the mention of Pepper. Clint wasn't really sure, be he was sure about not really wanting to know. Natasha picked herself up from the training mat that they had been sitting on "You don't have to be a woman to be good at this stuff, Clint," she offered her hand to help him up, "just go ask someone who would seem like they know. Try Steve, he seems like a romantic type." Clint thought about for a second, and decided she was probably right. "Thanks 'Tasha, I knew there was a reason I talked to you." He gave her a smirk and a kiss on the cheek before beating a hasty retreat so she wouldn't use him as target practice for her two Russian made pistols. She smiled at his retreating back. Clint found Steve, of course, with Tony. Tony was explaining Star Wars as the Jedi warriors danced across the TV screen, and by the looks of Steve, he wasn't all that impressed. Of course, that may have had something to do with the way Tony explained things, most of it would fly over anyone's head (except maybe Bruce's). Before the explanation could get any farther than what would make Light Sabers more efficient, Clint walked up and cut the television off in the middle of an epic battle. "Hey! We were watching that! Mostly…" Tony protested. At the same time, Steve said, with a look of eternal gratitude, "Thank you." That earned him a pout from Tony, and just as the Captain was going to say something placating, Clint interrupted. "I need help." After a long pause, with the three staring at each other awkwardly, Tony said "Okaaay… with what? I am a genius, not a mind reader….Yet. I'm still working on that." Clint rolled his eyes. "I need Steve's sort of help, actually." Tony looked overly offended, and Steve looked concerned. "See, I sort of need help being romantic with Phil, and Steve, you're the most romantic person I know…. Kinda." Steve looked a little pleased at this, but was eager to help his teammate more. "Well, when you want to be romantic, aren't flowers a good choice?" This made Clint thoughtful, and he was about to tell Steve that he wanted it to be a bit more involved than just flowers, but before he could, Tony interrupted. "If you want to really impress him, do something sexy. You can never go wrong with sex." The genius was on a roll now, "You're gonna need three things. The most attractive underwear you can find, Lu- Steve cut him off, "Tony, not everything romantic has to be about sex!" Tony replied back with: "Yeah? That's not what you said last night." Clint could see where this was going (not that he really wanted too.), and was completely ignored as the two lovers dissolved into an argument. The archer threw up his hands with a sigh and stalked off to the kitchen. Thor was great at advice in general, and spent most of his time in the kitchen these days for an unknown reason. As he entered, he saw the big man sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, cradling a box of moon pies in his lap, almost as if they were precious. "Oh pies made of the moon, I adore thee." He proceeded to stuff one into his mouth and chew contentedly. Clint was more content to back out of the kitchen slowly, and pretend he didn't witness the desecration of the banana flavored treats. The only person left, was one that Clint wouldn't be sure could help. Bruce wasn't exactly involved with anyone, he never showed any interest in anyone, and he was quiet and bookish. All of those things Clint was sure didn't add up to having many romantic ideas. Still, it would be better to be safe than sorry. Clint found him in his lab, studying something under a microscope. "Hey, Bruce…Can we talk?" Bruce looked up at him and smiled is gentle, nervous smile. "I believe we are already doing so, but I assume you have a question about something." The humor took Clint by surprise, and he smiled at the dark haired man "I really need help being romantic for Phil. Natasha lacks the womanly instinct to be romantic. Steve suggested flowers, but I need something more involved, and Tony suggested sex…and well, I mean…that's not quite it either. Thor loves moon pies and that doesn't help either!" His frustrated explanation causes Bruce to laugh gently. "You know I am not that type of doctor, right? I'm not some relationship therapist. I don't think I can help." Clint was desperate. "Please Bruce, I'm starting to think you're only real sane one, besides Phil that is. I really need your help; anything you have must be better than the giant pile of nothing the other have." Bruce fixed his glasses, pushing them back to their correct position on his face. "As I understand it, making things for people tends to be a good thing. The thought and effort put into it go far beyond that of something store bought." "What do I make for him though?" Clint asked, and as if in response, in distant shout from Thor: "Food!" Bruce gave him another smile, "I think Thor has the right idea here." Clint nods, "Thanks Bruce!" He clapped the quiet man on the shoulder in happy camaraderie, and hurried off, not considering that he doesn't know how to cook….. Clint found himself at a grocery store. He had decided on spaghetti, after all, how could someone mess up pasta? He went down all the isles, looking for the things he would need. Who knew sauce could be so elusive? Once he had everything he needed, he head home. Time ti figure out how to work a kitchen! Turns out, kitchens aren't easy to work, and he was probably the only person on Earth who could screw up this bad. He had managed to find a pot, and how to turn on the stove (extra high, for a fast cooking time). That was pretty easy, and left him feeling confident. In his confidence, he decided to forgo reading the directions on the box of pasta, and dumped it into the now warm pot, and then, the sauce over top. Now Clint wondered how he was supposed to get all of the pasta cooked. His pot was small, and the noodles long, leaving most of them sticking out of the pot, and unable to cook. He figured that they would sink down as the bottoms got all soft. With his pasta safe on the stove, he decided he would leave it to do its thing and get ready for Phil, by making things look nice (including himself). Leaving was a bad idea. When he came back to see if it was done, well, it was done technically, just not in edible way. The sauce had exploded all over the kitchen, and the noodles had stuck themselves to the bottom of the pot in a horrible way. Clint was mortified. Before he could clean anything, Phil opened the door to their rooms, and was now in the living room moving around. "Clint?" He called. Clint's desire was to run. He wanted to run and hide, or run and stall his lover. Either way, he wanted to prevent him from seeing this room until Clint could clean it. Embarrassment is not something he had to deal with often, and he didn't like how it made him feel. In the end, he decided stalling was the best way to do it. So he ran out into the living room. "Hey there Phil, how was the office? Not too stressful, I hope." Clint did his best to act natural; he went up and gave Phil his customary kiss, letting it deepen a little bit, before Phil pulled away. "Did you clean up today? And do you smell burning?" Phil was immediately on high alert as he searched for the smell. Clint was having a mini meltdown. He had forgotten to turn off the stove in his panic, and now he was definitely not distracting Phil. He was in his agent mode, and nothing could really deter him now. Phil had nearly found his way to the kitchen. Clint caught up to him as soon as Phil had stepped through the arch-way. "I can explain! I have a really good reason for this." Phil turned off the stove before putting the pot in the sink and turning on the water, and letting it fill up before adding some soap. Once done he turned to the archer, a slight frown on his face. "Go ahead." Clint hurried to do so; really hoping he hadn't angered the other man in some way. "I wanted tonight to be perfect for you, romantic, and Bruce said make something, and Nat. is lacking instincts and Steve said flowers and Tony said sex, which is funny 'cause that all I was trying for with this night, and I've ruined it and now you're mad. "Hold on a second, you tried to do all of this for sex? And just so you know, I'm not mad at you, I'm just shocked." "It was supposed to be all romantic and stuff, and I thought it would be easy, and you'd come home to something I made for you, and then I'd tell you." Clint looked down at his feet, still embarrassed, but glad that the other man wasn't going to be angry. "What would you tell me Clint?" Phil moved closer to him, invading his space, he lifted Clint's face so that the archer was forced to look him in the eyes. "I wanted to tell you that I was ready for us to have sex. I've been ready for a while now. I just wanted it to be special when I told you I wanted it. So we could remember and stuff." Clint put his hands on Phil's chest, nervously messing with the tie of his suit. Phil smiled fondly at him. "I don't think anyone has ever done something so memorable for me than tonight. Tonight is not something I will ever forget." With that, he claimed Clint's mouth with his. It started off slow, a reassurance that everything was fine, despite the messed up dinner. Their mouths worked together, and the kiss changed. It grew in passion, with Phil's tongue invading the younger man's mouth. Clint found himself being pushed against the wall, he probably should have been more grossed out, seeing as there was pasta sauce drying next to him and very much in danger of coating his clothing and body, but he was much too worried about the hands currently stroking up his chest under his shirt, finding his nipples (when did those become so sensitive?), and play with them. He was gently flicking his fingers across them, driving Clint mad. The kiss broke and Clint moaned softly: "Phil, please." His dick was hard, and he pushed his hips into Phil's. "I need you. I've thought about this so much." Phil pulled away from him, and took his hand. "Come on then." He tugs him away from the wall, and leads him through their little piece of Stark tower to the bedroom. "I'm going to take good care of you tonight, Clint." With that, he pushes Clint down onto the bed, kissing him as he does it. He pulls away faster this time, and pulls his lover's shirt off of him. "You're beautiful, baby." Phil, using his mouth, started to work his way down the body beneath his. His mouth and tongue seemed to know where Clint was most sensitive, and he paid special attention to those spots. "P-Phil, Please! Oh God, I need you so bad." The agent had worked his way down the Avenger's body, and was now mouthing Clint through his pants, kissing his erection. Clint wanted more, and his hips arched, trying to get across his absolute need. Luckily the hint got across. "Oh tha-" Clint cut himself off with moan, as the pleasure he felt to finally be free of pants, turned into extreme pleasure at Phil taking his erection into his mouth. "Holy shit, Phil…." He was breathless, lost in the pleasure of his agent's talented mouth. Who knew tongues could be so nimble around the head of a cock? And Jesus, Clint was sure he couldn't last another second. He told Phil as much in gasped out moans, barely words. Phil hummed in acknowledgement, and the archer was lost. He cried out the man's name, arched his hips and his vision was blinded by the white hot pleasure that was simply Phil Coulson. "A-amazing." "I know I am," Phil gave him a teasing smile, "and we aren't done yet." Clint was just content to lay back and watch as Phil undressed. His body was perfection. Underneath the suits were lithe muscles that showed off the agent's badass side (Clint always knew it was there). There was the slight softness around the edges that came from age and desk work, and that balanced out the badass with the sweetness only Clint really knew. Overall, it was a body that portrayed it's owner perfectly. By the time he was undressed Clint was ready to go, his dick rising in interest as more of his agent's skin was revealed. When Phil's own erection met the cool air of the bedroom, Clint could feel the tingles of anticipation. It was thick, and perfect. If he wasn't dead set on getting fucked, Clint would have tasted it, swiped the head with his tongue to catch the precum he could see gathering there. "You have got to fuck me Phil. Right now, please, I want you inside of me. In answer, Phil got onto the bed with lube; he coated his fingers before letting one push in. Clint could feel his heart beat gaining speed. The one finger was strangely wonderful, and he clenched around it in acceptance, and to test the feeling. At his clenching, Phil crooked the finger and pressed against a spot that Clint hoped he would never stop touching. "Phiiil. More." Another finger was added. Two fingers was even better than just one. They pushed in and pulled out, spread apart inside of him, touched him in the most pleasurable ways. When Clint though that his lover couldn't get any hotter, he licked a stripe up his neck and to his ear hot words were whispered there: "Next time, I'm going to lick you open. I'm going to use my tongue and make you cum from just that." He couldn't form words to that, only whine in need. Phil pulled his fingers out, and shushed the sound of loss from his love, by putting the head of his dick against the entrance of tight, hot, ass of S.H.I.E.L.D's best sniper, and his Avenger. He kissed Clint once more before pushing himself inside slowly. By the end of it, neither of the men were sure where they began and the other ended. For both it was friction, tight and hot. The pleasure was growing more by the minutes as movement steadily increased. Eventually, it was a hard movement, both men giving a taking from it. It was fast, and a little rough, but the love was still there. It was there in the kisses, and playful bites and marks left on skin, as the lower halves of both roughly met. It felt too soon when the pleasure was too much for the blond man. Clint came with a loud cry and Phil's name on his tongue. Very soon after, Phil pushed inside one final time, and came, he was much quieter about it, but no less passionate as he whispered Clint's name to him, in his ears and on his skin. When it was done, they lay next to each other, content, and relaxed. There was nothing to say that hadn't already been said with their bodies. Instead, Clint watched his agent, and Phil stroked his Avenger's face. 


End file.
